


corté

by zannen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Background Relationships, Ballroom Dancing, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9690761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zannen/pseuds/zannen
Summary: The punchline isn’t that the beginner-level ballroom dance class is composed entirely of men. It’s that most of the men are frustratingly attractive, and Baekhyun has had to dance with every single one of them. And there's one in particular who makes his life especially difficult.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ssstrychnine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssstrychnine/gifts).



> Ballroom dancing used to be a thing in my life, but I don't remember a lot of the terms or details because it's been like sixty years and I'm a fuckawful dancer anyway.
> 
> SO YEP. This is dedicated to ssstrychnine, an incredibly old woman who just turned even older. Maybe someday I'll write that Yoonseok fluff you wanted. :')

The punchline isn’t that the beginner-level ballroom dance class is composed entirely of men. It’s that most of the men are frustratingly attractive, and Baekhyun has had to dance with every single one of them.

He’s following today. They’re learning the foxtrot and he’s… less comfortable, for some reason, when it comes to the smooth glide of traveling dances. Not confident enough to lead. It’s different with the ones where they mostly stay in one place, since it usually involves stepping quickly, turning his partner in circles a lot, and maybe gyrating his hips a little. (It’s supposed to be an artful hip movement, but for Baekhyun it quickly devolves into ass-shaking every time. Most of the other guys aren’t much better anyway.) Leading someone in graceful steps across the floor is a special kind of difficult for him; it feels less like playing and more like _commanding_ , and he just doesn’t have the right presence for that.

Neither, as it so happens, do a lot of his classmates.

His first partner of the day is Chanyeol, an anxious and kind of mediocre dancer who has what Jongin refers to as Chronic Noodle Arms. His hands and arms are powerful, even intimidating, but even so, the guy doesn’t seem to have a concept of a firm grip. There isn’t much force behind his leading, and Baekhyun is left almost stumbling backward as Chanyeol tries and fails to lead them through a box step. Innocent feet are crushed under larger, clumsier ones. Baekhyun would be annoyed, probably, if he didn’t otherwise like Chanyeol as much as he does. He mostly just laughs it off.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says with an apologetic grin at the end of it.

“No worries,” says Baekhyun. He looks to his left at Chanyeol’s next victim and winces. “Just, uh… maybe be a little more careful with Kyungsoo?”

Next is Jongdae, looking perfectly at ease when they move into position. Baekhyun is constantly surprised by how good his friend is at formal dancing. It’s a stark contrast to his terrible, arrhythmic club moves that look more like the mating ritual of a rare marsupial than a real attempt at dance.

Here, though, Jongdae is in his element. There’s big band music playing and everything, and he hums along as they dance. His frame is sturdy, motions fluid, expression oddly peaceful. Dancing with him is comfortable. Easy. Plus, his attention to detail is just short of obscene. Baekhyun wonders sometimes if he practices outside of class.

“Head,” says Jongdae.

Baekhyun’s reply is a confused squint.

Jongdae laughs. “You’re angling your head wrong. She showed how to tilt it, remember?”

Baekhyun vaguely remembers something about that, but he doesn’t pay a lot of attention during the class demonstrations. He’s always learned better from doing than watching anyway.

With Jongdae’s help, he gets the position of his head to a more natural, attractive angle, turned slightly to the left and chin lifted a bit higher. Jongdae half-teasingly calls him pretty. Baekhyun accepts the compliment without batting an eye.

There’s a short break as the instructor goes over the promenade. It’s a short, simple lesson, since they already learned that one with the waltz two weeks prior. Same basic principle. Baekhyun spaces out at the instructor’s feet during the demonstration.

“Can’t wait until class gets out,” Sehun mumbles as they execute the steps semi-competently. The lingering traces of his cologne smell nice—subtle, not at all overpowering. It’s a relief to Baekhyun’s delicate nose. So many of them reek of sweat and body odor.

“Not a fan of the old foxtrot, huh?”

“It’s not that. I’m just hungry.” Sehun sighs. “It’s barbecue night.”

Ah, of course. Baekhyun should’ve figured it would be either food or the boyfriend. Or both. He snickers. “You’ll live,” he says. “Just forty more minutes.”

Sehun grumbles quietly about stupid boyfriends and stupidly long dance classes and the entire stupid concept of time. It gets Baekhyun laughing that much more at his expense, and at how adorable a disgruntled Sehun can be.

Sehun and Zitao are some of Baekhyun’s favorites in the class. It’s only a little to do with how pleasant their company is, and a lot to do with them being so openly, unabashedly gay. It’s a breath of fresh air for Baekhyun, who thinks he might scream if he hears one more no-homo brand of nervous chuckle from any of their horrifically repressed and painfully straight classmates. There’s Jongdae too, of course, but Jongdae doesn’t count, with how enigmatic he likes to be about his sexuality. Like people have to solve a series of Egyptian riddles to figure out if he’s down to fuck.

A few more partners and two more demonstrations later, Baekhyun is face-to-face with Yixing, who gives one of his cute, dimpled smiles as he offers his hand. Baekhyun hopes to _god_ he isn’t blushing as he smiles back. He probably is. Shit.

His hand fits into Yixing’s grasp like a puzzle piece. A sweaty, embarrassing puzzle piece. Yixing’s other hand presses against Baekhyun’s shoulder blade, applying just a hint of pressure before they begin to move. Strong. Kind of reassuring. Baekhyun’s chest feels uncomfortably warm, like it’s full of hot air. He’s glad, suddenly, that his head is pointed away from Yixing and his patient gaze.

Then Yixing says in a hushed voice, “Hey, so.”

Baekhyun flicks his gaze over briefly to show that he’s listening. They’re still on the basic step, which is mindless enough.

Yixing glances to the side. He lowers his voice even further as he asks, “What dance are we doing?”

“The… I think she called it Park Avenue?” says Baekhyun.

“No, I mean—” Yixing huffs out a laugh. “Not what step, what _dance?_ ”

Baekhyun turns to look at him. Yixing’s smile is sheepish.

“Foxtrot?” Baekhyun says slowly, not sure if he’s answering the right question.

“Oh, really?” Yixing’s dimple makes a surprise appearance as he puts on a thoughtful face. “I guess that explains a lot.” He flashes Baekhyun another bright smile. “Thanks. I would’ve asked the others, but it’s kind of embarrassing, isn’t it?”

The tingly feeling of imminent death Baekhyun usually gets when Yixing smiles at him is replaced by sheer confusion. “Are—are you okay?”

Yixing somehow leads him into a Park Avenue, despite not even knowing ten seconds ago that they were dancing the foxtrot at all. He makes the move seem so effortless, too, like he’s been doing this for years already. Maybe he has some background in dance. Like Jongin, the flawless ballerina, or Jimin, who’s competed internationally and is only taking the class for the credits.

“Hm? I’m fine,” he says pleasantly. “I just don’t know the name for a lot of the things we do.”

More curious than concerned at this point, Baekhyun asks, “How come?”

“It doesn’t really seem important.” Yixing looks over at Baekhyun’s arm, bent into a perfect L so his hand can connect with Yixing’s. “Your frame’s gotten really good. It’s easy to move you around.”

“Thanks.” Baekhyun beams. Before his brain catches up to his mouth, he says, “I like to make a point of being easy.” His eyes go wide with mortification. “To, uh—to lead, I mean. Easy to lead.” He lets out a high, nervous laugh, quickly turning his head back to the left and trying to ignore the embarrassed flush spreading over his face.

Yixing snort-laughs but doesn’t say anything. They keep dancing a little while longer, Baekhyun trying not to trip over his feet in his embarrassment. When the music stops—the cue to change partners— their arms fall to their sides. Baekhyun hesitates, rocking back on his heels.

“Why’d you ask about the name of the dance, anyway?” he asks. “If it’s not important, I mean.”

“We have to start getting ready for the final soon,” says Yixing. “I figured I should learn the names of the dances so I know which one I’m choosing.”

The final. God, Baekhyun had forgotten about that. Maybe intentionally.

The first half of term is dedicated to dancing with different people and learning some basic steps from the main dances they’re studying—waltz, foxtrot, cha-cha, swing, salsa, tango. For the second half, they have to choose one partner and one dance to focus on, pick a song, and choreograph a dance to perform in front of everyone on the final day of class. But you know. No pressure.

It wouldn’t be a problem for Baekhyun, if not for the fact that Jongdae already has his eyes on someone for his own partner because he’s a traitorous shit. And past that, the only person Baekhyun really wants to dance with is… well.

“Ah, yeah. Makes sense.” He starts to step slowly back, in the general direction of the next lead. Junmyeon, he thinks. “Well—good luck.”

“You too,” Yixing says with one of his charming little smiles.

Terrible. Baekhyun should never have signed up for this class.

 

\--

 

“I hate the tango,” Baekhyun mutters.

“Really?” Jongdae says with a surprised laugh. One of his legs moves between Baekhyun’s, forcing him to step back. “You’re good at it, though. Better than you are with the other progressive dances.”

“I don’t _hate it_ -hate it.” Baekhyun’s gaze travels down the wall of mirrors, landing on Yixing’s back. His shoulders are shaking with laughter over something Lu Han said. He’s just three pairs away now. Baekhyun is filled with overwhelming dread. “I just… hate it.”

“Aw. Is it because it’s a sexy dance and you get nervous around cute boys?” Jongdae coos.

Baekhyun yelps indignantly, even though it’s absolutely true. “Do not!”

“Then you have no reason to hate the tango,” Jongdae says, leading them into a promenade. “It should actually be your favorite dance. It’s an expression of sexual tension, but in a classy way.” He lifts his eyebrows suggestively.

“I don’t know the meaning of ‘class,’” Baekhyun says.

“Hmm, yeah, that’s true. Maybe it’s a bad choice for you after all.”

His partner after that is the tall freshman whose name he can never remember. Something with a J. Nice kid, albeit a little weird. Baekhyun always finds him sleeping in the strangest places around campus, joined sometimes by Taehyung (whose name Baekhyun _does_ remember, because he’s hilarious and everyone keeps asking if the two of them are related). He’s a good dancer, too, even if his talent seems to be more in his own technical execution than his ability to lead. At least he’s not like Chanyeol, who’s bad at both.

By the time Baekhyun gets to Yixing, he feels he’s had enough practice not to embarrass himself—not with his dancing, at least. Neither of them say anything as they get into position: bodies offset so they can move between each other’s legs, Baekhyun’s hand on Yixing’s upper arm, Yixing’s on Baekhyun’s lower back. Hips too close. Knees slightly bent. Baekhyun is suffering.

“Something a little different this time,” Hyoyeon calls from the opposite side of the room. The opening instrumentals of Britney Spears’s “Toxic” start blasting through the sound system, starkly different from the more traditional tango music they were dancing to before. “Start whenever you’re ready.”

Baekhyun pretends for a moment that it’s _not_ Yixing’s leg pressing between his thighs, or Yixing’s lean muscle under his fingers, or Yixing’s firm embrace caging him in. The flimsy illusion is shattered, though, when Yixing starts talking to him.

“Do you know what dance you and Jongdae are doing for the final?” he asks in the middle of a turn.

“Oh, we’re not—he’s asking someone else,” says Baekhyun. “I don’t have a partner.”

“Really?” Baekhyun looks at him briefly, takes in the look of faint surprise on his face and tries not to linger on the details of his bone structure or the prettiness of his always-serious eyes. “You’re so friendly with everyone, though. No one’s asked you yet?”

“Maybe I intimidate them.” Baekhyun laughs. “No, I dunno, I think a lot of people have paired up already. I’m not really worried, though.”

“Would you want to do it with me?” Yixing asks. “I was leaning toward the cha-cha, probably, but if that’s—”

“Sure!” Baekhyun says a little too quickly, grinning so wide his cheeks almost hurt.

Yixing smiles back, then says, “I think we’re finishing soon. I’m gonna try to do a dip.”

It takes a second for Baekhyun’s over-excited brain to register what Yixing just said. He barely has time to let out an alarmed “ _What?_ ” before he’s pulled into a sudden counter-clockwise turn right at the end of the chorus. He quickly grabs hold of Yixing’s shoulder as he sinks back at a dangerous angle toward the floor, one leg extending out instinctively while the other supports his weight.

Someone whistles loudly. A shout of “Get it, Yixing!” has people cackling all through the room. Baekhyun just gapes at Yixing, who looks down at him and winks.

Hyoyeon takes that as an excuse to teach them how to dip, and the rest of class is spent trying not to kill each other. More importantly, though, every time Baekhyun looks over at Yixing, he finds the guy staring back, a sly, knowing smirk on his face.

Baekhyun decides to revise his opinion. The tango isn’t too bad.


End file.
